They Might Survive

Red lights flashing, siren screaming, each into their own thoughts;
The team is silent on the ride, woken from a deep sleep.
Doors open, voices are serious,
“What have we got here?”
Inside, frightened people wait,
Tensing more with each passing moment;
“They’ll know what to do.”
The sound of leather kits that ride on leather belts,
The smell of medical equipment rides the air,
Static radio sounds crackle, and make for jittery nerves.
You look into their eyes, and see the desperation,
You hope they don’t notice your perspiration.
Confident, you go through the rote,
And then you take it all down in a note.
Right now they are still alive
If you do everything right, they might survive.
3/8/2004